Thanks Deanna!!! Deanna gave me a jar... like a cookie jar. Now I can hide in the jar, and people will have to rub me the right way if they want me to appear!!! (like Christina's song....i'm a genie in a bottle, you gotta rub me the right way)

22 years ago, in Luyang, Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia, all hell broke lose and a fat boy was born. No one heard heaven rejoicing. All there was were the high-pitched shrieks of a bloody baby. They called him Daron. Daron's first year, was uneventful. There must have been things going on, but Daron can't remember. Daron thinks he was slow in his toddler years. The first five years were spent at a flat with few friends. He had his Moslem friends whom he would follow around the residential area, cursing profanely at passerbys.

6 is a great number. 6 years of being restricted to just Tam Kan Flat, Daron finally exposed himself. Please readers, exposed in the sense of being introduced and not flashing his privates. He was thrown into a Chinese school. Everything went by the book there: from singing a Chinese introductory song (which was supposed to enthuse all the students) to a melodious benediction (with actions) which at several of either Daron's brothers' or Daron's birthday parties, Shaun Choo and Daron were asked to sing.

Daron was at this Kindergarten for two years. The school is called Chung Hwa. Kim, Lisa, and Junior went there for a day. I never saw them since. Found out later they had a blast at STPS, playing tag, bullying teachers, participating in classroom corporal punishment, and throwing frogs at each other in the rain. Daron was skinny by now. He was admitted into the hospital for a week for having menigitis and asthma.

Aunty Theresa made Daron eat eggplants by making him eat quickly while she tells him horror stories.

Daron moved to a primary school not far from Chung Hwa at the age of 7. The heat was on. Daron and his friends were separated into classrooms of the same primary but with different achievement and learning standards. Daron peed in his pants on the first week of class, during a Mandarin spelling test. Daron didn't cry. Daron didn't see anything wrong with peeing in his pants. Daron and his Moslem friends filled plastic bags with urine and added toothpaste. They threw the bags from Daron's apartment which was on the fourth floor.

1994, Daron moved away from the City to Tamparuli. Became a loner, except for the occasional visits from Junior Arrifin and Kim and Lisa, and Adsone and his gang. Threw rocks at cow dung, climbed trees, played in streams/brooks which were actually really big ditches.

Daron was tired of being labeled as being dumb. He was never in the top classroom. In 1995 Daron studied extra hard and had his first and only experience of being in the 'top' class. Daron hated it there. Everyone was so competitive, so Chinese, everything that's done wrong ended up in caning. Daron rather be with those in the other not so 'top' classrooms.

1995, he won a public speaking competition. One-time-ONLY glory. Attempted a few afterwards but never won anymore.

Daron met up with some really great friends in 1997. They were Jeremy, Edwin, and Michelle. Friends were important then because they had to stay in school from 7am to 4pm.

1998. Daron was no longer friends with Jeremy, Edwin, and Michelle. They were in the 'top' class. Daron was in a second-rated class. Daron didn't give a shit. Daron broke someone's wrist, punched a girl, ran in track competitions, and had two other /daer[schwa]n/s in the class.

1999. Daron finally broke away from the city. He now attends SASS. Bitched about how far the secondary school was from his house. Made lots of good friends IN his class.

2000. The turn of the millennium. Daron didn't do anything spectacular. Hung out with the wrong bunch of friends, according to his parents, which Daron vehemently disagrees with, but now came to realize that there was some truth in it.

2001. Sat for PMR. Lost a relative. First time to cry after a funeral.

2002. Daron was in Form Four, nothing much going for him. Daron can't really remember now because it's freakin' 41 minutes past midnight.

2003. Graduated from SASS. Did terribly for SPM. Did superbly for his Grade 8 ABRSM. Climbed mount Kinabalu. Went to NS with besties Kim and Crystal (I will forever love these two girls)

2004. Went to Mission College.2005, 2006, 2007. Due to Daron's belief in a person's rights to privacy, he refuses to write about any of the significant experiences he had these years.

2008. Graduated. Learned how to swim, a little. Got a job. Complaining about job every day.

If you look carefully, you will see the word 'corny' on that red-colored strip right above the number '10.' I was having a corny breakfast.

Right now, I'm looking into my closet and watching my three seldom-worn shirts. One is pink, the other, orange, and another orange. Why did I buy these shirts, and I don't even bother wearing them. The pink is definitely at times too pink for my personality, but the oranges? Maybe I'll save them for Chinese New Year, or Halloween. There is this saying in Malay, "prepare an umbrella before it rains," probably I bought the shirt in preparation for Lerie and Bayu's wedding. Their colors are pink and orange.

I'm just a shopaholic.

Office this morning was interesting. I got to send my voice over to China and Burma. Talking to very different people. The Chinese was a typical Chinese. PERIOD. There was screaming on the phone, there was bargaining, there was begging, there was commanding going on, I could hear the mother of the caller in the background. Speaking to real Chinese people really makes me appreciate that I'm not pure Chinese. One thing with the Chinese (disclaimer: I'm not generalizing) is that they are really bold. Let's say instead of having Times New Roman as your font, you have CHINESE... and the only typeface for CHINESE is BOLD. Their boldness exceeds me. I'm happy that I am quite docile as I didn't scream back at the caller who was obviously losing it at the other end of the phone.

I miss writing. There are times when I feel that I need to write. But I get stuck on my turn-of-the-century laptop, which had served me well ever since stepping into College. I shall keep this machine, with me, indefinitely. Probably frame it up and hang it on my wall.

There was this one night, I was walking back from the church, and a cute little kitty cat followed me back. I think it was the cat that stayed with the guards at the guard house not far from my place. I gave it sardine and the cat smelt like shit. I checked and it did have shit on its tail.

Going through a small notebook which I kept when I was still a college student. (can't believe I am referring me being a college student in the FREAKING PAST TENSE!!!!) and came across a little poem which I wrote on the 23rd of July.

The Seathe sea,wider than spacegushes into every place (gosh this sentence is so cliche)

I drown in his dance (why 'his?' Mother nature is always referred to as 'her')They are quick to trace (trace what?!??!??!?!)

okay i'm holding back the last paragraph because it's just so wrong...(I wanted to blog this because I like the lines which are italicized).

By the way, there's this new Music teacher on campus. He is into woodwind. I accompanied him last week. HE'S GREAT. He could tell all the mistakes I was making... oh, and yeah, we have the same name (pronounced the same but spelled differently).

I want the regular semester. I'm not getting any regular visits from any regulars at all.